


Hey Trouble

by panpipe



Category: AB6IX (Band), ASTRO (Band), Golden Child (Korea Band), Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Yoon Sanha, Drunk Sex, Everyone Fucks Yoon Sanha, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Orgy, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rimming, Smut, Switch Hwang Hyunjin, Switch Lee Daehwi, Top Choi Bomin, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpipe/pseuds/panpipe
Summary: He’s not sure what he expected to see, but apparently his brain hadn’t prepared him for the most likely scenario — Daehwi with his hands in Bomin’s pants.Daehwi’s other hand grips Bomin’s hair andpulls, yanking his head back and exposing Bomin’s long, pale neck. God, Sanha can seeeverythingfrom here, which is simply torture. Daehwi’s palm rolls against Bomin’s erection, and Bomin breathes in harshly, hissing through his teeth.Sanha’s transfixed, obsessed with the image of Bomin laid out like that. Bomin’s never had much in the way of shame, and he’s grateful for that fact now.Hyunjin interrupts his thoughts, breaking his attention from the scene before him. “You’re really going to leave me like this to just watch?” Hyunjin asks.+++Sanha's had a crush on Bomin for years, and Daehwi decides it's time to do something about it.
Relationships: Choi Bomin/Yoon Sanha, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Daehwi, Yoon Sanha/Hwang Hyunjin/Choi Bomin/Lee Daehwi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 136





	Hey Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so so so much to [B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonbenet/pseuds/jeonbenet) for helping me with this fic. I truly couldn't have done this without her. Before she gave me notes I had maybe 6k, and based on her beautiful suggestions we now have this nearly 16k monster. Hashtag blessed.
> 
> Anyway. As you might be able to tell, the 00s Pyscho performance uhhhhh really RESONATED with me. I was already obsessed with all of them after watching the GOT7 Just Right cover, seeing as they were all so adorable and cute and friendly with each other..... and then they performed Psycho... and were so sexy.........!!!! I just knew they all really needed to fuck each other!!! So I said fuck it, be the change you want to see in the world!!!! And here we are!!!!! I hope someone out there enjoys this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

They celebrate together after the December Music Bank special because it isn’t often the four of them can manage to get together all at once. Usually, there’s some random subset of the 2000-line hanging out, and more often than not, someone from this group is missing because their schedules conflict. But it had been fun practicing together, and when Bomin suggests they all go out for a drink afterwards, no one refuses.

Sanha’s the first one finished, and he waits, slouched into his loose-fitting sweatpants and windbreaker in an attempt to deter any fans from recognizing him.

“That was fun!” says a voice from beside him. Daehwi.

Sanha grins. “Yeah, I’m glad the crowd enjoyed it so much.”

Daehwi punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Despite your lumbering, you’re still able to pull off cute so well. Unlike _someone_ over here.” Daehwi rolls his eyes, settling his gaze on the person strolling up beside him.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes too and laughs, but doesn’t deny it. They all know that Hyunjin’s almost incapable of performing aegyo with any sort of seriousness. It had been fun to watch him try during their practices.

“I can’t quite believe it’s over, though,” Sanha remarks. “It was really nice seeing you guys so much for once.”

Daehwi pokes him in the arm. “You could see us more often if you just _asked_. I keep telling you, I’m always up for dinner.”

It’s Sanha’s turn to make an exasperated expression. “Daehwi, you’ve turned me down the last five times I’ve asked you.”

Daehwi pouts. “You keep asking me when I’m busy! That’s not my fault!”

“You’re always busy, you idiot!”

“Now, now, kids,” he says, using the entire full day of existence in this world that he has over Sanha to take the role of the eldest. “This is no time for fighting. That’s not the Christmas spirit.”

“What’s not the Christmas spirit?” comes another voice from further away.

Bomin has finally arrived. His hair is disheveled from his attempts to break up the styling gel he’d had on for the show, and his eyes look a bit bleary from where he’s scrubbed off all the makeup the noonas had used on him earlier. 

This is the Bomin that Sanha knows best, and it’s his favorite version of Bomin. Just a guy his age, disheveled and sloppy and not caring what he looks like, fully assured of his hotness, imbued with a sense of confidence that Sanha himself loses the second he removes his makeup and returns to normalcy again.

It isn’t that Sanha isn’t confident, of course. It’s just that there’s a difference between being comfortable in your body and the way you can move and charm those around you, to knowing how fucking hot you are.

Sanha looks good and has a great personality, and he knows this and he likes and is comfortable with himself in exactly the way a pop idol _should_ be. After all, he knows he’s one of the hottest individuals in Korea. He’s paid a lot of money to be that person.

It’s just. Bomin.

Bomin exists in that space of hotness that’s so very different from Sanha’s. He’d be hot even if he hadn’t paid a lot of money and spent years practicing and training to be hot. Bomin is a visual, and he knows it, and it sucks because there’s nothing worse than someone knowing how fucking hot they are, because there’s also nothing hotter than someone knowing how fucking hot they are. It’s a curse on Sanha’s dick. This is his best friend he’s talking about. His super hot best friend.

Daehwi pinches Sanha’s arm to wake him from his reverie. “Earth to Sanha. It’s your turn to call the taxi.”

Sanha nods absent-mindedly, fumbling to get his phone from his pocket. He’s not even sure if it’s actually his turn to call the taxi, but he can’t think straight enough to argue. There’s something about seeing Bomin immediately after the adrenaline of performing. They haven’t had overlapping schedules in a long time, and usually, even when Astro performs on Music Bank, it isn’t like Sanha and Bomin can hang around afterwards to catch up. Bomin has his commitments, Astro has theirs, and the two go their separate ways after a few quick hugs and teasing moments backstage.

So there’s just a moment, a moment where he’s a bit overwhelmed because he’s already worked up from performing, and then there’s Bomin, looking exactly like Sanha’s favorite version of himself, and honestly, it’s just a fucking lot for him to take in at once. 

When the taxi arrives, he shoves himself into the front seat instead of squeezing himself into the back. Normally, Sanha doesn’t care, but today he squeaks, “I’m too tall for the backseat!” and closes the passenger door before anyone can argue. There are a few strangled and annoyed voices from the back, but Sanha ignores them while he confirms the restaurant’s location with the driver.

They’ve been going to the same family restaurant ever since they began practicing for the GOT7 cover stage, mostly because the owner has been very good about shuttling them into a back room before anyone notices. There’s nothing quite as valuable to an idol than privacy.

The owner grins widely when she sees them, exclaims a cheery, “Welcome!” as she ushers them into their usual room. She brings a pint of their favorite beer without asking.

“I love this place,” Hyunjin says with a grin.

Bomin laughs. “I’ll drink to that!”

Daehwi raises a glass too, nudging Sanha when he’s a bit slow to join them.

Sanha’s mostly calmed down now — the adrenaline from the show is wearing off, and even if he’s looking at the hottest version of Bomin — the version that looks exactly like his extremely normal best friend — he’s at least not horny about it. That’s why he’s moving a bit slower, but he’ll get himself back to normal. He always does. And so far, Bomin hasn’t seemed to notice anything is going on.

Daehwi’s seemed suspicious the last few times they’ve hung out, but he hasn’t said anything yet. Sanha hopes he keeps it that way because he’s really not sure what he’d tell Daehwi if he were asked.

He sips his beer as he tries to picture that conversation. 

Then he immediately stops trying. No matter how he tries to envision it, they all end in some sort of embarrassment for Sanha.

He returns to the conversation at the table and sees Hyunjin has cracked open the bottle of soju and is already pouring glasses for everyone at the table. 

“Cheers to a successful collaboration stage!” Hyunjin shouts cheerfully. His cheeks are already a bit rosy from the beer.

“ _Geonbae_!” they shout in unison, clinking the shot glasses and taking a long drink of the soju at once.

“It’d be fun to do again, wouldn’t it?” Sanha asks. He’s been quieter since they arrived, and as one of the first questions he’s posed all night, the others look surprised.

Daehwi recovers first. “Of course!”

“I’m glad you told them a sexy concept for the next performance,” Hyunjin adds. “Aegyo is fun, but I want to see our Sanha and Bomin be sexy.”

Sanha puffs his cheeks as he lets out a short burst of air. “Hey! Astro does sexy concepts now. I can be sexy.”

Bomin also releases a “YA!” of annoyance. “Golden Child too. Didn’t you watch Wannabe?”

Hyunjin grins. “Yes, but…”

Sanha can feel the warmth in his face from the drink and knows the soju has hit. Still, even knowing he’s drunk doesn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. “But what!” he shouts. “I’ll show you sexy.”

He stands up from the table, hitting it with his knees as he moves and nearly knocking over a plate. Daehwi has to catch it quickly, and thankfully still has the reflexes to do so before the plate hits the ground.

Sanha stands and moves his hips in a circle slowly. “See?”

Hyunjin lets out a “whoop!” of encouragement. “Closer, closer,” he teases. “Not quite sexy though.”

Bomin stands up too. “I’ve got it.” He moves his hips in an imitation of Sanha.

Hyunjin doubles over in laughter. “Not even close. Bomin, _Bomin_ , how is it possible you can’t move your hips at all?”

“I’m moving them!” Bomin shouts indignantly. 

Daehwi stifles a laugh with his hand before responding. “You’re moving your entire torso at once. Watch Sanha again.” He gestures at Sanha and nods, as if telling him it’s time to demonstrate.

Sanha does, but the flush in his cheeks is hotter now because this feels like a special demonstration for Bomin. He tries to push the thought out of his head, to remind himself this is a joke, but instead, he feels a slight strain in his pants as he slowly rolls his hips again, staring straight into Bomin’s eyes as he does so.

He quickly sits down to hide his burgeoning boner. The pants he’s wearing leaves nothing to the imagination.

The other three let out whoops of encouragement, Bomin even going so far as to shout, “Sexy sexy!”

Sanha flushes and takes another sip of his soju glass.

“See,” Hyunjin says, his words slurring slightly as he responds to Bomin. “You’ve got to learn how to move like that before you can be as sexy as our Sanha.”

Bomin pretends to be seriously listening to Hyunjin’s words. “Ah, of course, _seonsaengnim_ , I understand. Please continue teaching me.” He ducks his head as a sign of deference, then downs his latest glass of soju. He puts his hands behind his head and squats low, rolling his hips forward in slow motion. The movement is stilted but better than before.

Sanha is glad he’s sitting down.

Daehwi and Hyunjin let out shouts of encouragement. “Yes! That’s it!”

Bomin looks at Sanha and quirks an eyebrow up as if begging for his opinion too.

Sanha makes an exaggerated wink and sends two thumbs up in Bomin’s direction.

Bomin makes a small bow, dramatically repeating, “Thank you, thank you,” before sitting down again.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Daehwi says, staring down at his glass. “We never get the time to see each other anymore.”

Bomin claps a hand on his shoulder in an attempt at comfort. “That’s okay! At least I’m still a Music Bank host.”

“Bomin,” Hyunjin says, rolling his eyes. “That means we see each other maybe twice a year at best if Music Bank is our only interaction.”

Bomin rolls his eyes. “Well _you’re_ the ones who are busy all the time. Sanha always has time to see me. It’s just you two who can’t make it.”

Daehwi sputters. “I knew it!” He turns to Hyunjin, gripping the table. “Didn’t I tell you these two were always hanging out without inviting us?”

Bomin scoffs. “You expect me to keep inviting you when you always say no?!”

“Yes!” Daehwi shouts indignantly.

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m fine with being left out. You two are always annoying together anyway.”

Sanha’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his drink. “What?” he asks.

Hyunjin gives him a look that says, _As if you don’t know what I mean_. Still, he explains. “You two are always laughing about something you talked about without us. It’s annoying. I get it, blah blah you’re best friends or whatever. But dude. Calm down about it.”

Sanha panics slightly, just enough that his brain can’t come up with a response fast enough and he’s just there, mouth open, looking annoyed at Hyunjin for calling him out like this.

But Bomin responds quickly since his brain isn’t in crisis mode because he doesn’t have any kind of crush on Sanha whatsoever and can act completely normal.

Sanha envies him. Life would be easier if he wasn’t in love with his best friend.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. As if you and Daehwi don’t do the same! It’s always some reference to some show you watched together without us…”

And so, just as quickly as the moment had appeared, it was gone. And Sanha is reminded of exactly how his relationship with Bomin isn’t special at all.

— 

His relationship with Bomin isn’t that special. Bomin is his best friend and has been since they met in high school. 

Their meeting hadn’t even been special. The teacher had introduced Bomin to the class, and pointed out Sanha as a fellow idol, albeit one who had already debuted (vs Bomin, who had still been waiting for Golden Child’s debut).

There’s a special bond between idols in training, especially during high school, and so Sanha still keeps in touch with Eric and Sunwoo. He even texts Hyunjun sometimes too, even though they’re not really in the same situation anymore.

But there had just been something where he and Bomin always seemed to have more matching schedules, and naturally, they just ended up hanging out a lot — sleepovers at each other’s dorms when they weren’t in the midst of preparing for promotions or comebacks, under the pretense of studying for exams, but really, just an excuse to watch entirely too much anime.

He’s thought about it lately, trying to figure out exactly when he developed his crush on Bomin and why. If it was simply Bomin’s incredible confidence, he’d have fallen in love with Sunwoo too. The two of them hold themselves in a way Sanha hasn’t ever really understood, in a way that he and Eric don’t really manage either. The two of them talked about it once, but neither of them came any closer to understanding exactly how to emulate that level of just… being cool, and calm, and completely full of yourself.

So if it isn’t the confidence, he thinks that maybe it’s the way Bomin is sensitive to those around him. He’s kind and caring in a way that Sunwoo isn’t — which isn’t to say that Sunwoo doesn’t care about his friends. It’s just that Bomin is the kind of person who can tell you’re having a bad day, and brings over a soft drink from the vending machine without a word, as he waits for you to tell him what’s wrong.

And then he listens, quietly, and lets you have your own personal mental breakdown.

Then, as simply as he’d listened, he claps you on the shoulder and comes up with a distraction that resets the frustration, dissipates the anger, and brings you back into balance with the world around you. Sanha doesn’t know anyone else quite like that. 

He doesn’t even know how Bomin manages to do that when he’s really fucking stupid about almost anything else. If Bomin was so smart and sensitive, he’d have picked up on Sanha’s crush a long time ago, and let him down sensibly. And if Bomin could really read those around him, he wouldn’t do so many things that make Sanha hold out hope that, maybe, just maybe, he’s actually flirting a bit, and if Sanha would just make _one_ move, it would be done and they’d date and maybe the world would feel a little bit better because he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

— 

The first time Sanha had a wet dream about Bomin had been in high school. He’d had wet dreams before, of course — any boy going through puberty would — but this was the first time he’d had one about his _friend_ , about someone he knew almost as well as himself, and he woke up feeling so horrible and ashamed even the other members had picked up on how upset he was.

The only person he’d felt comfortable talking about it with had been Rocky, who hadn’t really understood the problem. Probably because Sanha wasn’t prepared to explain that the person it was about wasn’t just someone he vaguely knew, but his best friend.

“It’s normal,” Rocky had told him, looking at him confused. “Wet dreams aren’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“But,” Sanha had tried to explain, “but it’s someone I know —”

Rocky had shrugged. “Yeah, and? Your brain’s gonna pick someone it remembers to use for the dream. It doesn’t mean anything special.”

Which had made Sanha feel better, because maybe, truly, maybe that was all it was. Bomin had just been on his mind for completely non-sexual reasons, and his brain had used him for sexy fantasy material because it was the easiest memory his brain could grab onto. It would make sense. He saw Bomin almost as often as the rest of Astro.

But then he’d had another.

And another.

Visions of Bomin on his knees, of Bomin hovering over him, of imagining exactly what Bomin’s dick looked and felt like. Dreams that started as a normal hangout that devolved into mutual handjobs, that left him hot and aching in the morning. Worse than the wet dreams was that he’d started to continue the fantasy even after he woke up, using the expanded fantasy to jerk himself off that morning and find release.

Sanha thought it had to be weird, how easily he could see Bomin at school after all that, and pretend that he hadn’t just spent the morning imagining Bomin’s hands on his cock, pictured Bomin’s face as he found his own release, but there really wasn’t much he could do about it at this point.

And after a while, it stopped feeling so weird.

—

Bomin texts him and asks if he’s got time for a quick dinner, and Sanha, idiot that he is, doesn’t say no. He’ll gladly take what time he can get from Bomin.

Bomin says 6:30, which really means 7, so Sanha shows up just before the hour and waits.

“What are you thinking about, dummy?” comes a deep voice at Sanha’s ear, strands of hair tickling his skin as the breath brushed against it.

It sends a shiver down his spine, the combination of the deep voice, the light touch, and the fact that he was in love with the owner of that voice. 

It all hits him at once, taking him by surprise, and he jumps, clasping a hand over his ear in an attempt to block the sensation.

He looks up, annoyed, and is greeted with Bomin’s cheeky grin staring back at him, exactly as he expected.

 _Typical_.

Bomin is nearly twenty minutes late, as usual, and, also as usual, doesn’t even look the slightest bit ashamed. He simply grins wider at the annoyance clearly visible on Sanha’s face.

Sanha changes to a pout, which is both real and partly contrived to tease Bomin. “I told you not to scare me like that.”

Bomin shrugs. The self-satisfied smile never leaves his face. Sanha imagines ripping it off.

“What am I supposed to do when you’re so easily scared?”

Sanha’s eyes grow wide and he sputters in outrage, whacking Bomin on the shoulder, shouting a few expletives before they both break into laughter.

It’s stupid, it’s silly, it’s the kind of dumbass friendship they’ve had since their teacher announced there was an idol in the class and Bomin loudly had asked, “Who?” in all sincerity.

So why does he love Bomin so much? When did it happen? _How_ did it happen, when Bomin is so… Bomin?

As if to punctuate the thought, Bomin pinches Sanha’s cheek before slouching into the chair across the table from him — still grinning like a cat who just caught the mouse.

Sanha rubs his cheek, glaring at Bomin, but it doesn’t hurt. Instead, he’s trying to calm the part of his heart that forgets they’re just friends when Bomin teases him like this. He sighs. “Stop that,” he says, but he sounds like he barely means it.

Bomin just grins wider. “Stop what?”

Sanha rolls his eyes. There’s no point in dragging out the argument when Bomin is playing purposefully obtuse. Sanha knows from experience that Bomin can continue to play that game forever. 

“You were supposed to be here” — he checks his watch — “over a half-hour ago.” Bomin doesn’t have to know that Sanha planned his arrival around when he expected Bomin to show up. He lets Bomin think he’s really been waiting that long. “What happened?”

Bomin has the decency to look a little guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t think I’d be this late.”

Sanha shakes his head. “It’s fine. But you owe me. Now you have to come with me to try the new sweets shop when I ask.”

Bomin grimaces. He’s not nearly into sweets as much as Sanha is, plus, he never enjoys the cutesy shops that Sanha tends to find and want to explore.

Too bad, though. Bomin owes him for the inconvenience of being Bomin.

Sanha shrugs. “You know the rules. If you’re late —“

Bomin groans. “I know, I know. Then Sanha takes a punishment.” He waves his hand half-heartedly, as if waving away Sanha’s annoyance. “I’m used to it at this point.”

Sanha shakes his head. “If you’re so used to it, I don’t know why you can’t figure out how to be on _time_.”

Bomin grins — but this time, it isn’t cheeky. It’s downright _flirty_ , the idol smile that Bomin uses on female fans and co-hosts and Sanha hopes he hasn’t started blushing at the sight of it directed at him. “But I always like doing what Sanha likes doing. Why should I change?”

Sanha flushes — and this time he knows he can’t keep it out of his face, knows that from Bomin’s satisfied expression he can tell he’s flustered Sanha — and thinks about how lovely it would be to go hide in a ditch right now.

“What did you want to meet up for anyway?” Sanha asks, trying to focus back on why they’re here in the first place. He has to be back at the dorms before it’s too late because he’s got practice early in the morning, and he knows Bomin does too. Golden Child is working on their new concept for their comeback, so it’s meetings and more meetings for him these days.

It’s part of what had surprised Sanha about the last minute invite. He’d just assumed Bomin would be too busy to hang out for a while.

Bomin shuffles a bit uncomfortably. “The Music Bank producers asked me if I thought you guys would be willing to do another collaboration.” 

Sanha knits his brows together in confusion. He’s not quite sure why Bomin looks so uncomfortable.

“I mean, yeah. Didn’t we all talk about how fun it was?”

Bomin lets out a sigh of relief. “So you haven’t changed your mind?”

Sanha stares at him, confused. “No? Why would I —”

Bomin interrupts him. “Okay. Because they did decide to go with the sexy theme like you asked.”

Sanha flushes. He shouldn’t have suggested that. “Oh. Did they pick the song?”

Bomin bites his lip, and — _God_ , the things that does to Sanha. He tries to ignore the fact that Bomin’s lips are actually fairly moisturized for once, probably because he had work today, which means the makeup noonas actually insisted on him wearing lip balm. He absolutely doesn’t think about how plush and plump Bomin’s lips are, and how easily he could nibble on them if he’d wanted to.

“No, they won’t tell me. I think they’re afraid I’ll say no if they tell me, which means it’s gotta be a hard one.”

Sanha laughs. “Is that why you’re so nervous?”

Bomin glares at him. “Don’t laugh!”

Sanha does, though. He can’t stop. “Oh, the great Bomin, afraid of a little hard work! Who knew!” he cries out dramatically. His tone shifts as he narrows his eyes at Bomin seriously. “You’re saying yes, right? C’mon, it’ll be fun to have an excuse to see Daehwi and Hyunjin again. They’ve been bugging me about the fact we don’t hang out anymore. You must have been ignoring their texts.”

Bomin rolls his eyes but he doesn’t deny Sanha’s accusation, which means it’s true. Bomin tends to ignore things if he’s annoyed. “As if they aren’t the ones that are always too busy.”

Sanha just continues to stare at him. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re doing it, right?”

Bomin sighs. “They’re going to make fun of us again.”

Sanha laughs. “They always make fun of us. I can’t believe this. Were you really so bothered by last time?”

Bomin focuses his stare on a point somewhere above Sanha’s head, purposely not making eye contact. “Maybe.”

Sanha reaches across the table and grips Bomin’s shoulders. He doesn’t have any issue doing this, one of the few benefits of being as large and lanky as he is. “Bomin. You’re the visual. Get over it.” He leans back into his chair and laughs. “I can’t believe I’m actually telling you this for once.”

Bomin’s laugh is half-hearted, but Sanha can tell he’s a bit relieved. “Okay, okay. I know. I’m being silly. Okay. I’ll tell the producers. I guess we need to make a group chat.”

Sanha scowls. “Yeah, since _someone_ over here left it.”

Bomin looks a bit sheepish at that, at least.

— 

The four of them schedule dinner for before the filmed Music Bank dance practice. Bomin restarts the group chat and organizes it, suggesting the same family restaurant they went to last time in the hopes people are just as respectful about keeping their distance. 

Hyunjin cancels at the last minute due to his busy schedule, apologizing profusely and explaining he’ll be late to the filming as well. 

The rest of them agree to still meet up. After all, it’s been a while, and dinner with Daehwi in attendance is always a fun experience. The sass and joy he brings are unparalleled.

Sanha arrives first, of course. He’s always first. But thankfully, Daehwi isn’t too much further behind him, and they only wait on Bomin for ten minutes.

Both of them are used to arriving on “Bomin time”.

The owner had sheepishly apologized that there was no private room available tonight, and seats them in a tiny table in a far, darkened corner to allow them more privacy. Daehwi takes the chair on the opposite side of the table, and Sanha quickly calculates exactly how much distance he can expect from Bomin when he takes the seat next to him on the bench.

It won’t be much. Sanha curses under his breath.

“ _Ya_ ,” Daehwi shouts, playfully slapping Bomin’s arm as he sheepishly takes his seat beside Sanha. “It’s a good thing we’re practicing at Woollim, so you won’t be late for filming!”

Bomin ducks his head in a shameful gesture, and Sanha can feel Bomin’s movement against his arm because he has practically plastered himself against Sanha. Even if he’d expected this to happen, the sensation is still overwhelming for his senses. He’s tried his best to not sit like this with Bomin, not since his crush started because he’s never prepared for exactly how the warmth of Bomin’s skin affects him.

Daehwi notices — catches his eye and raises a brow accusingly.

Daehwi had asked him, once, what he thought of Bomin. Daehwi had scoffed at his answer, said he was being stupid, and ever since, Sanha’s been nervous when he looks at him like _that_.

Did he know?

He must. Daehwi somehow knows everything, and he sits on that knowledge until it’s the perfect time to roast you with it. Usually, his roasts involve motivating you to do something that forces you to live up to your whole potential, so it’s hard to even be mad about it. He can’t think of a single time Daehwi didn’t help him in the end.

Sanha can’t decide what Daehwi would think was the best answer to his Bomin problem, but he has a sneaking suspicion the advice would likely involve fucking him and moving on, based on what Sanha knows of Daehwi’s sex life.

Sanha tries to shake off the fit of nerves that thought inspires.

“So, how’s the comeback going?” Daehwi asks.

Bomin groans and leans back into the seat. “It’s hard. We were just on Road to Kingdom, you know — and now it’s another whole new dance on top of all that. Tag is being a demon about the entire thing, and Daeyeol keeps telling me he ‘believes in me’ which is just code for ‘I’m really picking up the dance slowly and holding everyone back.’”

Daehwi reaches across the table to pat him comfortingly on the shoulder. “Poor baby Bo-Bo-Bomin.” 

Bomin rolls his eyes. “And yours? I’m sure you’ve got it all down perfectly.”

Daehwi grins, flashing a quick finger heart. “As if the answer could be anything else!”

Sanha just laughs, relieved this collaboration stage is all he has going on, unlike the others. He’s actually been able to look forward to working on this. “Well, I’m glad this is all I need to be preparing for now,” he says, verbalizing his thoughts. “We’re really performing Psycho? That dance is hard.”

Daehwi opens his mouth to disagree, but Bomin interrupts. “Just because _you_ think it’s easy doesn’t mean Sanha and I aren’t going to struggle. We beg your forgiveness in advance.”

Daehwi laughs. “Alright, alright. I promise to be nice. On camera at least.”

Bomin sighs, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I suppose that’s all we can ask for.”

Sanha smacks Bomin on the side of his head. “Speak for yourself, Mr. I Can’t Move My Hips. I’ll be just fine; don’t lump me in with you!”

Bomin shrieks in fake outrage, and reaches around Sanha’s waist to hold him in place and tickle at his hips. “Not all of us can be so talented like Mr. Telephone Pole over here!”

Sanha squirms, flustered, hoping Bomin’s hand doesn’t dip too low. He’s already been on fire all night just from the feel of Bomin’s arm against his, and anything more and he feels like he’s going to burst into flames.

Daehwi raises his brows again, pointedly at Sanha, and Sanha wishes he could expire right then and there. There’s no way Daehwi doesn’t have suspicions of _something_.

After that, dinner is a hodgepodge of catching up — asking how things are going, catching up on the interpersonal dramas they’d complained about with their members previously — and it’s enjoyable, it’s relaxing, it’s a great way to break the ice before they have to go on camera and show everyone what good friends they are.

Of course they’re good friends, but none of their fans wants to see the awkward “how’s it been since I last saw you” phase of idol friendship. It ruins the fantasy.

“Bio break,” Bomin announces, and gets up to leave the table.

Sanha adjusts subconsciously, moving back to fill a bit more space on the bench.

Daehwi sees his opening and takes it. Sanha feels the atmosphere shift as Daehwi leans forward, chin resting against his hands. “So. Have you done it yet?”

Sanha stares at him. “Done what?” He’s afraid he knows the answer, but he’s hoping he’s wrong about it.

Daehwi lowers his voice. “Fucked him, of course.” He jerks his head towards the direction Bomin walked off to make it obvious who he’s referring to.

Sanha flushes straight to his ears. “Daehwi!” he says in a loud, exasperated whisper — a cross between trying to keep their identities a secret while also fighting his own outrage.

Daehwi doesn’t stop there though. “You know. Two horny teenagers, two best friends, it just makes _sense_ , especially when you’re attracted to each other and have been for so _long_ —”

“Bomin doesn’t see me that way,” Sanha replies, his voice cutting, attempting to shut the conversation down.

Daehwi rolls his eyes. “Bomin has a dick. He can see anything that way if you try hard enough.”

Sanha knows there’s logic in that. He’s a guy too, and he’s been turned on by the weirdest most innocuous things that aren’t even Bomin related, despite his giant longing crush on Bomin. But that doesn’t change the fact that part of this equation is this is _Bomin_ , and the thought of fucking one of his best friends without any sort of commitment, with the expectation he might have to go back to his normal routine afterwards —

To Daehwi, he says instead, attempting an air of nonchalance, “We’re just friends, that would cross a line —”

He can’t even finish his train of thought before Daehwi interrupts him again. “ _God_ , you’re such a prude, Sanha. You’re absolutely the only one thinking like that. Are you trying to tell me you’ve never fooled around with that Rocky guy before? I’ve seen how he looks at you. You could easily fuck _him_ too—”

“Daehwi!” Sanha screeches. “That’s uncalled for, he’s my _friend_!”

Daehwi raises an eyebrow with a self-satisfied smile. “Oh? How come you seem more upset about me telling you to fuck Rocky than Bomin?”

Sanha’s eyes widen in horror at what he’s subconsciously revealed. He attempts to cover it up. “I’m upset about both,” he hisses. “It’s just that you’re not letting up about it when I’m trying to explain why it’s a bad idea.”

Daehwi just rolls his eyes again. “What about it is a bad idea? Hyunjin’s my friend, and we haven’t let that stop us.”

Sanha feels a cold wave of shock pass through his body. _What_?! Daehwi and Hyunjin? He has to have misheard. 

“With the way Bomin was all over you tonight, I just figured something had changed. Is he always like that?”

He isn’t, of course, because Sanha doesn’t let him. But Bomin would be like that, actually, often _is_ like that when Sanha is a bit sad and lonely and lets Bomin do whatever he wants. Sanha flushes. “It doesn’t mean anything,” Sanha says.

Daehwi raises his eyebrows. “Bomin’s comfortable with us, but he’s not _that_ comfortable. I thought for sure you two had finally fucked. Why haven’t you?” Daehwi holds out his hand and begins ticking off reasons with his fingers as to why Bomin and Sanha should fuck. “He’s hot, you’re hot, and it’s easier than trying to date a girl. Trust me on that one.”

Sanha opens his mouth to protest and bring the conversation back to _What the fuck, you and Hyunjin?_ , but Daehwi doesn’t stop talking. “You’re acting like it’s some huge deal. It’s just sex, Sanha; it’s not like it’s your first time.”

Except it would be. Sanha laughs, stilted and awkward, the way he always has before when this topic comes up and his friends want to discuss their sex lives with him. “Of course not.”

Daehwi narrows his eyes. Then something _clicks_ , and his expression shifts from one of suspicion to one of surprise. “Oh my god. You’re a virgin.”

Sanha panics and glances around the restaurant, trying to make sure no one heard — which just fucking confirms it for Daehwi. “Oh my god, our poor little Sanha. No wonder you’re too scared to make a move.”

Sanha glares at him. “Just— Daehwi, please, just, can we keep this between us? It’s not a big deal, okay—”

Daehwi looks at him pityingly. “Actually, it’s a huge deal. I can’t believe this.” He grips his chin, as if in deep concentrated thought. “I’ll figure out a way to fix this, okay. Don’t worry. Leave it all to me. I’ll be your hyung in this.”

Sanha rolls his eyes. “I’ve lived this long without it affecting anything, Daehwi. Just let it go. Besides, I think it’s more important for us to talk about you and Hyunjin—”

Of course, that’s exactly when Bomin returns to the table, pressing his body into Sanha’s again with little regard for Sanha’s personal space. “What about Daehwi and Hyunjin?” he asks, completely oblivious to the conversation that had just transpired.

Daehwi grins and stares at Sanha, waiting for him to explain.

“Nothing,” Sanha grumbles. He really needs to find out more about this Hyunjin and Daehwi thing, but he’s absolutely _not_ going to ask with Bomin right there. What if Bomin thought it was gross?

Or worse, didn’t see any issue with it? Sanha’s entire world view would crumble around him and he wouldn’t even have any excuse for why he’s been horny as hell for his best friend for five years without release. 

“Where’s our drinks?” he asks, annoyed. “They’re taking too long to refill. Someone flag down the waiter, okay?”

Bomin nods, letting his deep voice carry through the restaurant as he calls for their waiter. He doesn’t seem to notice anything is off, thankfully, and Sanha would like to keep it that way.

— 

Daehwi had winked at him when they’d parted ways at dinner and sent him a few suggestive texts afterwards which Sanha had ignored. Sanha thinks there is probably a relatively low likelihood that Daehwi gets too explicit when a camera is around, but a relatively high likelihood he will heavily hint and suggest something.

Which means Sanha is only mildly nervous about how today’s practice will go. And honestly, Sanha is usually mildly nervous about _something_ , so this is absolutely an emotion he can manage.

He arrives first, checking in at the lobby with the receptionist, who tells him to wait for Daehwi as the film crew has asked that they arrive together. He flips through his phone for a bit, scrolling through social media until he feels a strong poke in his shoulder.

“Come on, telephone pole,” Daehwi jokes. “It’s time to go.”

Sanha rolls his eyes. Daehwi had taken to the nickname after Bomin had used it at dinner, and now it’s the only thing Sanha’s referred to in the 00s practice group chat. He’d be annoyed, but he recognizes nicknames are a way to show affection. And there are worse things to be called than telephone pole.

Bomin is waiting with the film crew when they arrive at the practice room floor, and Sanha makes sure to stand in the fogged glass of the entryway for the comedic effect of their introduction.

The interview covers the normal basic points: a recap of their formation, the joke of their other name. When Bomin and Daehwi assume everyone had deleted the group chat, he grits his teeth — but the moment passes quickly enough and they’re back into the groove, exactly as they’d planned by going for dinner before the dance session.

It’s all well and good, except for how Bomin simply _won’t stop_ touching him. 

He glances at Daehwi, as if to ask, _Has he always been like this_? Sanha thought he knew where he stood with Bomin, but he can’t help but admit that Daehwi’s comments at dinner have had him rethinking his interactions with Bomin.

Did it really look like they might have fucked? Was that how Bomin touched him?

He’s never felt so conscious of Bomin before, not last time they did a collaboration, not any of the various times there’s been a camera crew backstage, or they’ve stood next to each other on a music show, but somehow, here in front of Daehwi, he can’t help but analyze Bomin’s every movement. 

He tries to focus on the interview, tries to focus on putting on a good show, but it’s difficult and he’s praying for the start of dance practice so that Bomin will be too focused on learning the dance — something he struggles with the most out of the group — to focus on Sanha’s awkwardness.

It works exactly as he hopes, and soon enough he’s distracted himself trying to learn the dance correctly. He’d thought reviewing the dance ahead of time would be enough, but the instructor is precise and the dance is difficult.

Bomin makes a joke, and Sanha laughs, uncontrollably, because he loves Bomin and he thinks everything Bomin does is funny and —

Daehwi notices. Sanha can feel his eyes on him, can feel him analyzing their every interaction, and _god_ , he wishes Hyunjin would arrive soon so that Daehwi might be more distracted.

“I have a plan,” Daehwi says to him, while the choreographer is providing some one-to-one help to Bomin, who has been struggling to keep up in rehearsal.

Sanha quirks an eyebrow at him. “A plan for what?” He takes a swig of water, attempting to re-hydrate while they wait.

“You losing your virginity.”

Sanha chokes on the water he’s been drinking. He hisses, “I told you to let that go.”

Daehwi shakes his head. “And I told you, _no_ , it’s too pathetic to be a virgin at our age. I know it’s hard to date as an idol, but geez, Sanha. You’re hot and famous. We have to fix this so you can stop being so sexually repressed.”

“I’m not repressed!” Sanha squeaks.

“Uh huh,” Daehwi says, skepticism evident in his voice. “Then you’re not fucking Bomin because…?”

Because it’ll destroy their friendship. Because if it’s bad he’ll be embarrassed but if it’s good he’ll just be depressed when it’s over.

Thankfully, that’s when Hyunjin arrives. Hyunjin’s appearance seems to distract Daehwi from teasing Sanha and concocting plans to rid Sanha of his virginal status.

Hyunjin practiced beforehand, just like he’d promised, and he’s good, incredibly good in a way that has everyone teasing him about the fact he’s the 00s main dancer. 

Sanha watches his interactions with Daehwi and tries to comprehend a world in which Hyunjin and Daehwi are fucking, but somehow he can’t quite wrap his head around it. Is that what it looks like to be sleeping with one of your best friends? Almost imperceptible? Why isn’t it more noticeable? Is Sanha missing some sort of built-in relationship radar that other people are born with?

He brushes off the thought, and decides to focus on being grateful that at least Daehwi seems to have stopped teasing him for the day.

— 

They continue to meet a handful of times outside of the filmed Music Bank dance practice schedule. Twice they go out for dinner afterwards, which isn’t really that different from their usual behavior anyway — it’s just that for once it’s easy for all four of them to meet up at once. After the second dinner it leads Daehwi to insist they all go out for noraebang afterwards, which no one can say no to, because 1) it’s Daehwi, 2) they’re all far too drunk.

A voice in the back of his head suggests this might be a bad idea, they Daehwi is using a fucking _come hither_ look when he suggests noraebang, but Sanha writes that off to an overactive imagination.

— 

It isn’t an overactive imagination. 

Almost as soon as they move into the noraebang room, Daehwi plasters his body against Hyunjin’s. Licks at the nape of Hyunjin’s neck as he sings the first song. Hyunjin rolls his hand against Daehwi’s crotch in return.

Sanha watches in disbelief from his corner of the small room as Daehwi rolls against Hyunjin’s lap, moving his body in a way that’s so similar to his dance on stage, and yet, something else entirely. Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight but keeps singing, which is honestly ridiculous. How can anyone sing with Daehwi moving like _that_? Sanha’s not sure he’d be that strong.

Sanha and Bomin had sat on the other side of the room out of habit, and Sanha feels like a stupid virginal idiot turning to Bomin, a panicked look on his face, almost begging to see the same confusion reflected back in Bomin’s expression.

Bomin is staring at Daehwi and Hyunjin with raised eyebrows, but he doesn’t look disturbed or upset or like he wants to leave.

 _Oh no_ , Sanha thinks with panic. He wishes he knew what that expression meant. Does Bomin like to watch? Does he simply not care? Is he gonna jerk off to this later? Does he want Sanha to do that to him?

He works himself up into a cold sweat trying to figure out what could be possibly going through Bomin’s mind, and by the end of the first song, he is gripping the seats tightly and plotting out various escape routes.

He could pretend to get a call from his mother? Or a manager? Maybe there’s a fire at his dorm and he has to immediately go back and try and save it from burning down.

The song changes, and it’s the one Daehwi had plugged in. He switches his mouth’s purpose from licking a line down the length of Hyunjin’s body to that of singing the song. Fluidly, like they’ve done this before, Hyunjin pulls Daehwi to his lap, not interrupting Daehwi’s singing in the process.

Daehwi _has_ always had incredible breath control. 

Daehwi rolls his body against Hyunjin’s, Hyunjin groaning at the contact — all while Daehwi belts out the Super Junior D&E Oppa song. How they can stay in the mood while this is happening, Sanha doesn’t really understand.

He glances over at Bomin again, trying to gauge his reaction. After all, Sanha knew Hyunjin and Daehwi were having sex even before this horny nightmare of a noraebang party, but he didn’t think Bomin had been aware. He has to have figured it out now, seeing the familiarity between Daehwi and Hyunjin. It’s obvious they’ve done this before, many times, that it’s second nature to them.

But Bomin still doesn’t appear scandalized. His expression carries no hint at any discomfort at all — just stoic, flipping through the song menu like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Then he shifts his hips, just slightly, and it draws Sanha’s attention to the growing tent in his pants.

Sanha swallows deeply. He’s done a lot of mental gymnastics over the years, trying to avoid thoughts of Bomin’s dick. He’s done his best to not think about its length or thickness or which direction it might curve or even wonder at how pink the tip might be, outside of any early morning fantasies to get rid of his morning wood.

But, _God_ , one moment like this and all his hard work is for nothing, because he can’t help but wonder. His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth as he feels the lust pool in his stomach.

He looks away, jerking his head with how quickly he avoids making eye contact with Bomin. 

Meanwhile, Daehwi and Hyunjin continue their private moment just as publicly as before, without little care for the fact that Bomin and Sanha are _right there_.

He’s pretty sure Daehwi is _panting_.

Is Daehwi an exhibitionist? He doesn’t remember this from any of their previous discussions of sex, but maybe Sanha missed it? He focuses on cataloging their previous discussions, which weirdly helps him to stop feeling quite so damn horny about what’s happening in front of him.

Bomin clears his throat as the song ends, tugging at the collar of his shirt. It’s stupid, but Sanha is hyper-focused on his body now. He drinks in the sight of Bomin’s broad shoulders, his narrow waist. Sanha’s always liked the way that Bomin is tall, but not quite as tall as he is. He likes having that one thing over Bomin.

Daehwi glances up at that, arching his back like a cat, and the sight of his flexibility really _does something_ to Sanha. Maybe it’s the way Hyunjin holds his hand at Daehwi’s waist as he flexes, the possessive nature of it. He can’t help but think of their closeness, of what they’ve done but Sanha hasn’t yet seen. He pictures Daehwi again, on Hyunjin as he is now, but fully naked, intimate, a gentle rhythm rocking them as Hyunjin slides in, and out and —

“H-Hey,” Sanha interrupts, after the song changes again. Sanha’s song is playing now, but he doesn’t start singing. “What are you guys doing?” Sanha asks. 

“What does it look like?” Daehwi asks. He turns back to focus his attention on Hyunjin again.

“Hey,” Sanha says, louder this time. “That’s rude. I thought we came for noraebang.”

Hyunjin looks up, his eyes glazed over. “Why’s it rude? You two can sing or go at it, we’re not stopping you.”

Sanha flushes all the way to the roots of his hair. Thank god the room is dim.

“That’s—!” Sanha shouts, his voice strangled. He doesn’t get out more than that, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

That’s unfair?

That’s stupid?

That’s a super hot idea, thanks Hyunjin?

He looks over at Bomin, hoping he’ll be sane and make all of this stop. Or tell Daehwi and Hyunjin that he and Sanha are going home, to their separate dorm rooms, where the world will be normal again.

Instead, Bomin’s eyes drift down to Sanha’s lips. Sanha’s lips part automatically, and just as instinctively, Bomin licks at his own lips in response.

Sanha feels like he could combust right there, just at the simple _thought_ that Bomin might be imagining kissing him.

He doesn’t have to imagine for long.

Bomin reaches forward, a small, wicked smile dancing across his face, and he reaches one of his large hands to cup Sanha’s cheek. “Great point, Hyunjin,” he says, staring directly into Sanha’s eyes.

And then he kisses him.

It’s sloppy. Bomin is drunk and the kiss is sloppy, not romantic at all — he misses the center of Sanha’s lips by about an inch, and the pressure is off, just a bit too hard and Sanha wonders if his lips will be bruised tomorrow. He hopes they are — something, anything, to prove that this is absolutely real. That Bomin wanted him, _marked_ him.

Thank God he doesn’t have a schedule tomorrow.

Daehwi lets out a “Whoop!” of encouragement, and that activates something new in Bomin. 

Bomin shifts, tucking his knees beneath him on the seat, rising so that he’s actually above Sanha. He stares down into Sanha’s face, his thumb dragging against Sanha’s cheek, and then, his lips. Bomin looks hypnotized by Sanha’s lips, and Sanha holds his breath, scared that this is all some kind of dream that’s about to end — even though it’s super fucking obvious it’s not a dream. He’d never dream his first kiss with Bomin would take place while Daehwi was giving Hyunjin a lap dance in a grimy noraebang room that they picked because Daehwi had said they were “discreet”.

Originally, Sanha had assumed he meant discretion about their status as idols.

He begins to realize Daehwi was counting on a different kind of discretion.

When Bomin kisses him again, Sanha reaches his arms up to grasp at Bomin’s shoulder blades. He’s always been tall, so not a single fantasy he’s had has ever pictured this reversal of height. It makes the entire experience that much more erotic because he could never have imagined this before. He can’t think what comes next, and that has his skin on fire in anticipation.

Daehwi interrupts. “Bomin, isn’t this your song?”

It is.

 _Really_? Sanha thinks, annoyed. He glances at Daehwi’s face and sees the ghost of a smug smile reflected back at him. Daehwi winks, and exactly what Daehwi was thinking with this cockblock, Sanha doesn’t understand.

Bomin looks at him with remorse before taking the microphone from Daehwi to sing again.

Daehwi turns back to make out with Hyunjin in the corner, which is supremely unfair because Sanha feels so uncomfortable he could die. His cock is tight against the fabric of his jeans, and it only grows tighter as he watches Bomin, watches his fingers lightly grip the microphone. He thinks about the way those fingertips had felt against his skin, imagines them against his neck and trailing down his chest and then lower, lower — touching his aching cock.

When Bomin begins singing, his eyes are locked on Sanha. He prowls forward, catlike, his voice husky with desire as he sings a song he’s sung a million times before. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to know the words. He just continues advancing towards Sanha until he’s close enough to push Sanha down into the seat. Sanha feels the anticipation pool deep in his stomach as he waits for Bomin’s next move. 

Bomin sets the microphone aside, clattering loudly against the table in his haste to free his hands so he can push one forward to slide up Sanha’s shirt. His finger grazes against Sanha’s nipple as he roams Sanha’s body, and Sanha hisses at the contact against his more sensitive skin. Bomin grins at the reaction, leaning in close to sing the song in Sanha’s ear. His voice is soft and low, and as he songs, he slides his thumb over Sanha’s chest again, just avoiding where he’s most sensitive.

Sanha feels like he’s panting at the contact and desperately fights the urge to press himself against Bomin’s body, to drag him down further so that they’re pressed together, no space between them.

He’s not even sure where any of this is coming from — his body is moving instinctively in ways he’s never thought about too deeply before. His fantasies with Bomin have always been half-visualized, vaguely mimicking the porn he’s watched, but never with any exact certainty on the movements. After all, he’s only had a handful of rushed experiences on dates with girls he wasn’t supposed to be with, moments he could never quite enjoy because the fear of getting caught was too ever-present in his mind for him to relax.

But there’s something about this with Bomin that feels natural, even with Daehwi and Hyunjin _right there_ , because, _God_ , it’s Bomin. When it’s mattered, he’s never felt nervous with Bomin.

Bomin takes the opportunity during a pause in the song to lick at the nape of Sanha’s neck, and he combines it with his hands undoing the front of Sanha’s jeans. Sanha nearly shoots his hips off the seat in surprise as the fabric shifts against his growing erection.

The thing about their positions is that it doesn’t take much to turn and see what the other couple is doing. They’re both sitting on opposite ends of the table in the noraebang room, separated only by the table and the rest of the couch in between them. 

That’s why it isn’t hard for Sanha to see Daehwi whisper something into Hyunjin’s ear out of the corner of his eye.

Hyunjin stands, walks over to them and whispers something in Bomin’s ear just as he’s tugging at Sanha’s jeans to pull them down further. Then Hyunjin nods in Daehwi’s direction. There’s some measure of back and forth in the whispered discussion, and Sanha is straining to hear while also pretending he doesn’t care, which unfortunately means he ends up hearing absolutely nothing important or intelligible. 

Bomin and Hyunjin trade places, except that Hyunjin doesn’t press his body against Sanha’s prone body. He lifts Sanha back to a seated position, resting his hand on Sanha’s hips as he stares into Sanha’s face. Sanha tries to hide the disappointment, but Hyunjin notices, grinning.

“I’ll make a bet,” Hyunjin says, leaning forward and whispering hotly into Sanha’s ear. Sanha continues to stare straight at the noraebang screen and pretends like his cock doesn’t react immediately to the sensation.

Hyunjin absolutely notices if him rolling a hand against Sanha’s exposed briefs is any indication. He continues. “I bet Bomin’s not as good of a fuck as me.”

Sanha, who’s been trying to pretend he’s fine with the turn of events and not freaking out at every change in positions or new element introduced, falters. The implication of Hyunjin’s statement is twofold — one, Bomin’s going to be nothing but a disappointment, and two, Hyunjin can absolutely fuck and satisfy Sanha.

Sanha hates that he can’t help but be excited at the thought. He’s seen the way Hyunjin’s body moves — when they’re just hanging out as friends, when they’re performing, and now, as he’s absolutely about to fuck someone — and Sanha knows without any doubt whatsoever that it’s a losing bet to say Bomin would be a good fuck in comparison. 

Tonight, Bomin had looked into Sanha’s eyes with the clear thought of wanting to get off. Hyunjin looks like he wants to get _Sanha_ off. Like nothing else would give him more pleasure.

Sanha shakes his head. “I’m not taking that bet.”

Hyunjin smirks. “You don’t believe in him?”

Sanha can’t hold in the laughter. “Y-You saw him. He’s good, but he’s not—”

Hyunjin’s smirk grows. “He’s not what?”

Sanha flushes. “You definitely seem more experienced.”

“And yet, you still have that stupid crush on him. Why? Are you fantasizing about having extremely vanilla sex with him as you both learn your hot spots?”

Sanha doesn’t know what kind of face he makes, but Hyunjin’s smirk falters when he sees it. “Oh, damn. Sanha, baby, you gotta get over that. Trust me. It’s not as good as you think it is.”

Sanha opens his mouth to protest Hyunjin’s derision, but Hyunjin stops him, gripping his cock roughly through the fabric of his briefs.

Sanha gasps, the sensation so hot and unexpected he sees stars.

The tone of Hyunjin’s voice is smug. “Yeah, see, you’re definitely freakier than you think. I told Daehwi you would be. You don’t want that boring missionary stuff, I promise.”

All this time, one hand has still been resting at Sanha’s hips. Hyunjin digs his nails into Sanha’s skin, and Sanha moans at the intensity of the marking. “Y-You told Daehwi what?”

Hyunjin grins. “That you can’t be satisfied with that boring stuff when you’re clearly a bit of a masochist.”

“W-What?” Sanha pants. “I’m not—”

But Hyunjin tweaks his sensitized nipple, the same one Bomin had been teasing earlier, and Sanha shivers with the pleasure of it.

He deflates. “I— I’ve never tried it, I don’t think I need to—”

Sanha doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore. He’s spouting words because it feels awkward, his arousal bared so clearly for someone he doesn’t even consider one of his closest friends. God, he’s rock hard and Hyunjin is _looking_ at him in such a way that he’s mesmerized and turned on and hungry for whatever Hyunjin wants to give him. He’s been nothing but teased this entire night and it hasn’t turned him off yet, and that has his horny brain thinking, “Well, okay, maybe that’s true about me.”

He looks back to where Bomin and Daehwi are in an attempt to regain control of his brain and think about something else.

He’s not sure what he expected to see, but apparently his brain hadn’t prepared him for the most likely scenario — Daehwi with his hands in Bomin’s pants.

Daehwi’s other hand grips Bomin’s hair and _pulls_ , yanking his head back and exposing Bomin’s long, pale neck. God, Sanha can see _everything_ from here, which is simply torture. Daehwi’s palm rolls against Bomin’s erection, and Bomin breathes in harshly, hissing through his teeth. 

Sanha’s transfixed, obsessed with the image of Bomin laid out like that. Bomin’s never had much in the way of shame, and he’s grateful for that fact now.

Hyunjin interrupts his thoughts, breaking his attention from the scene before him. “You’re really going to leave me like this to just watch?” Hyunjin asks.

That’s when Sanha notices _he_ ’s erect too.

 _This is bad_ , he thinks. _This is very bad._

Because if he watches Bomin get any more turned on then this, then _he_ ’s going to be fully erect — which, God, he already almost was — and then it’s four very horny boys in one very small noraebang room. 

“Sanha, make sure to help Hyunjin,” Daehwi says, turning his face to nuzzle against Bomin’s neck. “Can’t you, Sanha?” His voice is pointed, mocking. Like he knows Sanha would rather be doing this with someone else. Because Daehwi _does_ know.

Sanha likes Hyunjin well enough. He really does. It’s not like he ever pictured himself in a situation like this, but there’s not anything about Hyunjin that he hates. It’s just there’s always been a part of him he doesn’t quite trust

Hyunjin leans back into the cushions.

“Well? Are you going to stare at Bomin all day long or are you going to blow me?”

Sanha turns to see if Bomin heard them in a panic, and, fuck, he makes eye contact with Bomin who just fucking _winks_.

Winks!

What the fuck does that even mean?

Hyunjin reaches one of his long, thin fingers and tips Sanha’s face back to him. “Here. Pay attention _here_.” He guides one of Sanha’s hands to his belt, which is already undone. His pants are unbuttoned and unzipped as well, and Sanha takes a moment to look, really look, at the monster in Hyunjin’s pants.

He takes two shots of soju to mentally prepare himself, dragging an arm against his face to wipe his mouth.

When has Yoon Sanha ever backed down from a challenge?

Because that’s what this is. Hyunjin thinks he can’t keep up with him and Daehwi being sex fiends, they think he’s too sweet and innocent and he’s _not_ , he won’t lose, especially not if Bomin is already part of all this. Yoon Sanha is not a quitter.

He pulls down Hyunjin’s boxers, freeing his erection. He takes a moment to assess the situation before him, before tentatively stroking the length.

Hyunjin’s cock reacts immediately at the touch of his hands, and thank god Hyunjin’s closed his eyes so he doesn’t see Sanha’s surprise.

He strokes it a few times, thinking about the way he likes to stroke himself, before Hyunjin grimaces and hisses, “Not your hand, idiot. Your mouth.”

He stares at the sight before him, then tentatively leans forward and tests the length in his mouth.

Just swallowing the head is an experience. A cock is so much bigger than Sanha had anticipated. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from it, but the sensation of something warm filling his mouth is shocking. His own cock stiffens in response, thinking about just how stuffed he’ll be if he takes in more of the length.

“Sanha,” Daehwi says. “Not like that.”

Sanha can feel Daehwi’s gaze, and it makes him flush with shame. Something about the combination of Daehwi’s judgment on his sexual ability, along with the reminder that _good God_ , he’s really in the middle of having sex with _three_ of his friends makes him both aroused and ashamed and the combination of the two just turns him on even more.

“Grip the base,” Daehwi instructs. “Just steady it with a few fingers. It’ll help you suck it better.”

Sanha stares at Hyunjin’s cock. He hesitates for a moment, like somehow if he continues this, if he really takes this last step — the full length in his mouth — then he’s really lost whatever remaining sanity he had left.

Hyunjin grabs his head and pushes him down, moaning, “Yes, like that, baby.” 

Sanha realizes he’s already lost the remnants of his sanity because _God_ , God, maybe he _is_ a bit of a masochist. The shock of the length being forced against his throat sets him on fire.

He grips Hyunjin’s cock at the base like Daehwi’s instructed. It helps to steady him so that he feels grounded before trying to relax his throat and suck at the length. He tries to see exactly how far he can take Hyunjin’s cock into his mouth before it activates his gag reflex.

It turns out to be most of it. He’s only inches from his own hand when he starts to choke.

Daehwi whistles. “Bomin, can you see that? Makes you wish Sanha was blowing you too, right?”

Bomin makes a sound, a sound Sanha can’t quite hear over his own choking noises. He wants to look at Bomin, wants to ask him, “Do you want me to?”

But that would be getting too serious if he asked. If it isn’t from Daehwi’s instructions, it would mean something, which might destroy their easy-going friendship. As long as he does what Daehwi tells him, then he can claim it’s just a drunken mistake and all Daehwi’s fault.

So he doesn’t look at Bomin at all, just goes back to sucking Hyunjin’s cock now that he knows his own limits. Hyunjin’s hands roam through his hair, massaging his scalp, and everything is so sensitized that he can feel every movement of Hyunjin’s fingertips. The sensations go straight to his cock, and he’s so pitifully hard that he whines against Hyunjin’s dick.

Hyunjin groans. “Yes, God, yes.”

Sanha can hear the smirk in Daehwi’s voice. “Ooohh, yes, I forgot to tell you. Hyunjin really likes it when you make noises while you’re sucking him off. Be careful. I don’t think you’re ready to try swallowing yet, and Hyunjin’s not good about warning before he comes.”

Sanha thinks about swallowing Hyunjin’s come — thinks about the fact that Daehwi absolutely has, that he probably even _enjoys_ it, and the image turns him on even more. 

Would Bomin try swallowing? He looks like he’d be willing to.

Sanha sucks Hyunjin’s cock and thinks about how much he’d like Bomin to do the same to him, and he whines, hums, makes all sorts of uncontrollable noises around Hyunjin’s cock.

Hyunjin gasps, and it’s the only warning Sanha has before something hot and wet is flowing down his throat. He pushes himself away from Hyunjin, coughing at the liquid he can’t quite swallow. The taste is awful, and he tries to spit as much of it out as he can.

A bit of Hyunjin’s come landed on his cheek, and he wipes it away with his shirtsleeve.

Hyunjin doesn’t even look fazed by Sanha’s reaction. In fact, it looks like he’s even more turned on than before.

Sanha thinks he’s learning entirely too much about his friends tonight.

Hyunjin rubs a thumb against Sanha’s cheek, and Sanha can feel more of the come smear against his face. “You missed a spot,” Hyunjin says, grinning wickedly. 

And then he presses his thumb into Sanha’s lips. Sanha’s so surprised that his lips part, and Hyunjin tucks his thumb so quickly in Sanha’s mouth that he can’t even move to avoid it. He presses his thumb into Sanha’s tongue.

“Suck it,” Hyunjin orders.

The come tastes disgusting. It tastes just as god awful as when he choked on it.

But he does as he’s told.

Hyunjin shifts, removing his thumb as he inserts two fingers into Sanha’s mouth instead. He raises an eyebrow and waits.

Sanha understands the order.

He sucks Hyunjin’s fingers then, like they’re his cock and his life depends on it.

He’s spent so long pent up and waiting for his turn to get off, and all this does is make him hyperfocused on his own erection. Even the slightest shift in his position is torture.

Hyunjin presses his other hand against Sanha’s crotch and he nearly loses it right then just from the pressure alone.

When he hears Daehwi’s snicker and sees the satisfied expression on Hyunjin’s face, he knows he must have moaned out loud.

Hyunjin glances away, looking over at Daehwi. “What do you think?” he asks as he tugs at the elastic waistband of Sanha’s sweatpants.

Hyunjin pulls Sanha’s pants down past his briefs. He palms again against the fabric, then leans in close so that he whispers in Sanha’s ear. “Who do you want to fuck you? Me or Bomin?”

Sanha shivers. Hyunjin’s breath is hot and wet, and to make matters worse he punctuates his question by licking the inside of Sanha’s ear.

“Daehwi likes to watch me fuck other people,” Hyunjin says, still whispering at his ear. It’s worse now, the heat of his breath against the lingering wetness. “So if you let him choose, it won’t be Bomin.”

Sanha freezes. His shoulders tense. He’s so goddamn horny that he wants anyone to touch him, really, but god, if he can choose — if this might be the only time —

“B-Bomin,” he whispers, and his shoulders sag as if he’s been sapped of all his strength by saying it.

Hyunjin shoves Sanha down against the table in the middle of the noraebang, and when Sanha looks at him in surprise he sees he’s wearing a wicked grin. “Daehwi,” he says, his voice more forceful now than before. “Where’s your bag?”

Sanha looks back to where Daehwi and Bomin were sitting — only they aren’t sitting anymore. From his vantage point, they’re upside down, but he can still see them clearly. Bomin has his fingers in Daehwi’s ass as he sucks Daehwi’s cock.

Bomin apparently doesn’t have a gag reflex.

He turns his gaze back to Hyunjin in a panic. It had been one thing, hearing Bomin’s moans, and not knowing what they were from. But it’s another entirely to witness him like that. 

Daehwi moans as he answers Hyunjin’s question, and Sanha covers his face with his hands. Like if he physically covers his eyes, his brain will forget the image it’s seen. “It’s— hngh— in the corner near you—”

Hyunjin grunts in response. Sanha hears him rifling through whatever is in Daehwi’s bag. “It’s not here. Where’s the lube?”

Daehwi moans again. “It’s — it’s here by me.”

Sanha sees the shadow of Hyunjin walking past him, then returns just as quickly. He pulls Sanha’s hands from his face. “You should see this,” he says.

“S-See what?” Sanha asks.

Hyunjin squeezes the lube onto the tips of two of his fingers. Sanha watches, mesmerized, as Hyunjin presses two fingers against his rim. He nearly shoots off the table in surprise at the new sensation.

“This,” Hyunjin repeats, slipping one finger inside.

Sanha lifts himself off the table with a moan. He’s so on fire he can’t even think about how uncomfortable the sensation is — he’s just curious and eager for _more_. He looks back, sees Daehwi’s expression — panting, mouth open, eyes closed. He looks like a slut, like he can’t get enough, and _god_ , Sanha wants to feel like that too. He doesn’t even care if it’s Hyunjin or Bomin anymore.

Hyunjin is patient. He works the first finger in, then moves it, slowly, at different angles, pressing and twisting until he finds exactly the right spot.

“Ah!” Sanha cries out.

Daehwi laughs. “Good job, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin slides in another finger. “Bomin’s a bit large for you to take on your first time,” he says, and Sanha wants to die. “So I need to make sure we prepare you well enough.”

“You’re letting Bomin have him?” Daehwi asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“I let Sanha pick,” Hyunjin answers easily.

Sanha tenses, can feel himself tightening, and the two fingers that had previously felt strange but not uncomfortable quickly become a nuisance. He’d thought Hyunjin would let him keep his shameful desires a secret, that it would just be Hyunjin that knew exactly how desperate he was to be fucked by his best friend — so much so he was willing to experience it with two other friends in the room. But Hyunjin just told _everyone_ — 

“Shh,” Hyunjin whispers. “Relax.”

“You just—” he cries out, embarrassed, but his voice is strangled as Hyunjin shifts his fingers again, and a wave of pleasure rolls over him. He moans instead of finishing his sentence.

Daehwi grimaces. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, annoyed. Apparently Hyunjin had been right about what Daehwi was hoping to get out of the night.

But then the voice he’s been dreading speaks. “He picked me?” Bomin asks. “Why?”

Sanha flushes so deeply he knows he must be red from his ears to his collarbones. He can’t look at Bomin. He needs to pretend this isn’t happening. He can’t believe he’s being asked _why_ when Hyunjin’s fingers are in his ass.

Sanha simply won’t answer. He won’t let his humiliation be that complete.

Hyunjin can’t keep his mouth shut though. “Dude, are you blind? What do you mean, why?”

Daehwi sighs dramatically. Sanha realizes with horror that they’re going to do the talking for him.

Daehwi’s voice is authoritative and matter-of-fact as he speaks. “I’d been hoping for a change from the usual, but I suppose Hyunjin and I _did_ set this up so Sanha could get his dick wet. I hope you two don’t become exclusive.” Sanha can see Bomin clearly from this position, and he watches as Daehwi grips his cock tightly, nearly sending Bomin careening off the cushions from the shocking sensation. “I’d like to try this sometime soon.”

“Wait,” Sanha manages to speak. His mind is racing, from the sensation of being spread open, to Bomin wanting to know why Sanha wants to be fucked by him, to Daehwi saying he _planned this entire night_ so Sanha would get fucked — too much is happening and he can’t keep up.

He focuses on one thing at a time, starting with the most recent shock. 

“You did what? You planned…?” Sanha asks, panting as Hyunjin inserts another finger.

Daehwi looks back at Sanha and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “We planned this. So you’d stop being such a prude.”

“I’m not—”

Hyunjin inserts a third finger, and Sanha can’t speak any longer. The sensation is intense and overwhelming, both painful and pleasurable.

“He is, isn’t he?” Daehwi asks Bomin.

Bomin is confused, but answers honestly. “Yeah. What does that have to do with—”

“With this? With you?” Daehwi asks. His voice quickly shifts into one of annoyance and impatience. “Are you really that blind?”

Sanha wants to cry out, wants to tell Daehwi to stop, but the only sound that escapes his lips is a loud, sensual moan. He wishes he could be more embarrassed.

At the sound, Bomin’s attention is dragged from Daehwi’s face, and he looks straight into Sanha’s eyes, the confusion clear in his face that he doesn’t understand the implication of this conversation, and why it seems to revolve around him.

Sanha’s cock leaks precum.

Hyunjin laughs. “Are you really that dense, Bomin? I’m starting to feel bad for our little telephone pole here.”

Bomin sounds frustrated now. “What are you guys _talking_ about?”

Daehwi’s voice is low and sultry in a way that makes Sanha wish he could punch him in the face. Sanha’s barely managed sexy, and there’s Daehwi just… just… just _breathing_ sensually. 

“Sanha wants you two to fuck. A lot. Has a little crush on you. Dreams about you coming inside him probably—”

“Daehwi, sto—” Sanha whines, trying to stop his humiliation. If Bomin rejects him now — if he’s going to be rejected while Hyunjin has three fingers up his ass, it will really be too much humiliation for him to bear.

Of course, Hyunjin chooses that moment to change the angle of his fingers, to curve up just slightly and fuck, he must have found the prostate, because he feels every nerve in his body come to life. He loses track of what he wanted to say to Daehwi.

Daehwi doesn’t stop talking either. “You look at Sanha so fondly, Bomin. I really figured you knew. I thought maybe you were just being a little tease. That you wanted him to beg for it.”

There’s silence.

There’s a long pause and Sanha buries his face into the cushions and tries not to cry. 

Then he feels someone’s hands stroke his ears, his jawline.

It’s not Daehwi’s delicate touch, or Hyunjin’s more forceful ownership, which means… 

Bomin.

Sanha looks up.

Bomin is looking at Sanha with a strange expression. Like he’s never really looked at Sanha before this moment. Like he’s seeing him for the first time.

Sanha feels Hyunjin remove his fingers as Bomin circles an arm behind Sanha’s back, lifting him off the table and pressing him close against Bomin’s body. Bomin’s still completely clothed, and the feel of the fabric against his chest makes him feel even weirder about the situation than he did before.

They’re like that for a while, hugging. Then Bomin says, “Sorry,” and leans back just enough to kiss him softly.

Bomin tastes like come, like Daehwi’s come, and it’s gross, and it’s disgusting, smelling of musk and tasting so bitter he wants to gag again. He can’t believe this might be Bomin’s answer to Sanha’s almost confession and he’s going to have to treasure this memory forever.

When the kiss is over, Bomin doesn’t say anything, just stares at Sanha with a curious expression on his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanha finally asks.

“I don’t know,” Bomin replies.

Bomin’s an idiot, someone that goes through life without a care, and that’s always been one of his greatest charm points but today it’s really frustrating. Sanha’s had all of his dignity stripped of him, and he doesn’t even get the dignity of having his feelings acknowledged properly. 

But Bomin is there, and Sanha’s horny and mad and he can’t think straight anymore. He might as well get fucked.

He yanks Bomin’s stupid sweatshirt over his head and presses a kiss to Bomin’s collarbone. He sucks at it, bruising the skin. He needs to leave a mark. He needs something to look at tomorrow to remind himself that Bomin wanted him, at least once.

“Come on now,” Daehwi says, his pouting voice cutting through the noise in Sanha’s head. “Tonight’s not about just you two.” He separates the two of them. “Sanha, you’re still not ready for him. Bomin, you need to fit three fingers in comfortably before he’ll be ready.”

“He’s almost there,” Hyunjin adds. “Just loosen him up a bit more and he’s ready for you.”

Daehwi situates himself above Sanha’s face, leaning on his knees to steady himself. He has a dancer’s thighs, and they barely strain with the effort to hover above him. “Lick it.”

Sanha doesn’t understand.

Hyunjin explains. “You need to get him ready for me.” He swirls a finger at Daehwi’s entrance. “Here.”

Sanha’s eyes widen. “L-Lick _there_?”

Daehwi looks down at him, a fake pleading expression on his face. “You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”

Sanha stutters. He’s experienced a lot of new things tonight, but this… 

Daehwi doesn’t even look the least bit ashamed as he threatens, glancing at his nails like the discussion bores him, “Then I guess I can let Hyunjin fuck you instead.”

Bomin inserts the first finger, and Sanha gasps at the unexpected intrusion. He can’t even see Bomin now, since Daehwi’s hovering over his face.

He doesn’t want his humiliating confession to be for nothing, but he’s still not mentally prepared.

Hyunjin speaks again, interrupting any rational thought he has left. “I thought you wanted to learn more techniques,” he says. “You should try it now, when we’re here to teach you. I’m sure Bomin would want to try it later.”

Bomin, horny asshole that he is, agrees. “I’m certainly not against trying something new.”

Daehwi sits closer, just inches from Sanha’s mouth. “I suppose the three of us could always just have some fun while you watch. Maybe you’d like that more?”

Sanha doesn’t want to watch Bomin with Daehwi and Hyunjin, with the two of them touching him while he can’t. 

He takes a deep breath and decides to try something new.

It’s a strange sensation. Daehwi’s hole is still slick with lube from when Bomin had fingered him earlier, and he’s been spread enough that Sanha’s tongue slides in easily without resistance. 

He feels Daehwi shudder above him, the sensation causing Daehwi to sit lower against Sanha’s face. Sanha shifts slightly, trying to angle himself so he isn’t suffocating as he licks at Daehwi’s rim, trying to play with different sensations in the hopes somehow it’s pleasurable for Daehwi.

He must be doing something right, because Daehwi lets out a soft whimper.

“What does it feel like?” Bomin asks.

Daehwi’s voice is thick with lust as he responds. “It’s wet, and warm. Different from your fingers.” 

Sanha licks aimlessly, still not sure what Daehwi is looking for. “No,” Daehwi says, arching his back. “Like you’re kissing me,” he instructs. “There’s a rhythm.”

Sanha burns with anxiety. He tries again, tries to think about what it’s like to kiss someone’s lips, even though this experience is nothing like that. He slides his tongue in and out of Daehwi’s hole, and as Hyunjin begins to slide a third finger in, he slows his rhythm to match Hyunjin’s. Slower. Then faster as Hyunjin increases his pace.

“Yes,” Daehwi gasps. “That’s better. But spread me. It’s—” His breath hitches. “It’s not enough, Sanha. More—”

Sanha feels a pit of apprehension form in his stomach just like earlier. He’s once again taking a more active part in this — the second his hands are on Daehwi’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart, his tongue feeling the sensation shift as his rim widens, allowing him greater access to lick and suck at, he feels it straight in his cock.

“Yes,” Daehwi gasps. “More, Sanha, please, your tongue— put it deep inside—”

Sanha does as he’s asked, and Daehwi nearly lifts himself off the couch. Sanha holds him in place, keeping him spread wide as he continues to move his tongue in and out, the sensation of lube against his lips making everything slippery and all too easy.

“I’m tired of waiting,” Hyunjin declares. 

Sanha feels the emptiness as he removes his fingers, and he whimpers.

“Daehwi, come on,” Hyunjin says. “I changed my mind. I want to get fucked today.”

“Really?” Daehwi asks, surprise in his voice. “Even though yesterday—?”

Hyunjin nods.

Sanha thinks he’s learning entirely too much about their sex life, and almost says so, but then Bomin inserts a second finger.

It’s torturous how long the others have been drawing this out. Sanha feels like it’s been hours since they came to the noraebang, and he still hasn’t come once.

“Should Sanha give it a shot loosening you up?” Daehwi asks. His voice is light and teasing. “He should learn that too. After all, he’s going to need it for when he masturbates from now on.”

“I won’t—” Sanha protests.

Daehwi laughs. “Don’t lie to yourself, Sanha. It feels good, doesn’t it? I’ll send you some links after to my favorite toys. You’re going to want them — fingers aren’t going to be enough after you take Bomin in.”

Daehwi lifts himself up, and Sanha’s left with the texture of slick lube on his tongue. “Sanha,” Daehwi says, trailing a finger across Sanha’s chest. “We’re being so nice to you today. Don’t forget.”

Bomin’s kept a steady pace with his fingers during this, just leisurely moving in and out, as if he has all the time in the world to fuck Sanha. It’s driving Saha insane.

Meanwhile, Daehwi and Hyunjin reposition themselves. Daehwi sits on the glass-top table, naked, legs crossed as he surveys the men before him. He smiles, supremely satisfied. 

Hyunjin bends over in front of Sanha, his face buried into Daehwi’s cock. He licks at it leisurely, but not with any real intent of a blowjob. Hyunjin reaches backward and spreads his ass. “Sanha,” he says. There’s no please. Just the silent instruction.

“Hands,” Daehwi commands.

“I can’t—” Sanha starts. He’s really in no position that he can do anything being asked of him, still lying on his back, Bomin’s fingers in his ass.

“Bomin,” Daehwi says, annoyed.

Bomin looks up from his ministrations and understands the issue. “Sorry,” he says, and Sanha’s not sure if it’s to Sanha or Daehwi. He removes his fingers, and Sanha whimpers from the loss of pressure spreading him apart. He feels achy, missing something. 

Daehwi stares at him pointedly, waiting.

Sanha shifts, sits on the couch, feels his wet ass leaking against the smooth leather. He can’t quite wrap his brain around what’s happening, but the shift in his position has him coming back to reality. Has he really been fucked by Hyunjin’s and Bomin’s fingers this entire time? The lube leaking from his ass would imply he has.

Daehwi pours lube onto Sanha’s fingers and guides his hand to Hyunjin’s ass. Daehwi spreads Hyunjin wide. “Do you see how pretty his asshole is?” Daehwi asks. “It’s almost as pretty as mine.”

Hyunjin speaks, teasing. “Bomin, whose asshole is prettier? Mine or Sanha’s?”

Bomin pauses for a moment, and when Sanha looks at him he can see Bomin is very seriously considering Hyunjin’s asshole before responding.

“Sanha’s is pinker,” he replies matter-of-factly, deftly avoiding answering the question.

“Oh? Is that better then?” Hyunjin asks, his voice teasing and light.

Bomin leans over Sanha’s back, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. “They’re both nice.”

Daehwi laughs. “No one wants to hear that, Bomin. Stop trying to be our gracious leader. You suck at it.”

Bomin laughs — the kind of laugh he has when he’s embarrassed. 

“One finger first, Sanha,” Daehwi instructs. “I know you’re ready to be fucked, but you can’t have all the fun tonight. We have to get Hyunjin ready first.”

Sanha inserts just his middle finger as he’s been instructed, surprised at how easily it can slide in. He remembered more resistance when Hyunjin had inserted the first finger with him. He looks at Daehwi, confused.

“He’s used to this,” Daehwi shrugs. “Plus he used that last night, so he’s still loose. But when you’re doing this to yourself, you shouldn’t rush. Not in the beginning, while you’re still getting used to it. It’s not fun when it hurts.”

Hyunjin laughs. “No, Sanha likes it when it hurts. I confirmed it.”

Daehwi looks at him in surprise, his expression shifting to one of respect. “Is that so? Kinky. Yoon Sanha, I’m impressed. Hyunjin thought you’d be a bit freaky, since you’re so quiet, but I didn’t expect him to be right.” He whistles in appreciation, then stares directly at Bomin. “Bomin, remember that. It doesn’t matter if it hurts a little with our Sanha. He likes it.”

Sanha flushes, but he can’t deny it. He _had_ liked it, just as he was starting to be spread too wide, the pleasure and the pain mixed together, making every sensation that much more memorable.

“Since he’s already loose, you can get another finger in now, Sanha.”

Sanha inserts another and meets a little resistance this time. He works his fingers in and out, slowly, and tests stretching them apart.

Hyunjin gasps.

Sanha’s asshole throbs in response, remembering the same sensation inside him just moments earlier. He wants to be _full_ again, and he knows that being asked to loosen up Hyunjin is just Daehwi’s punishment for the fact Sanha won’t let Bomin fuck Daehwi tonight. He wants Sanha to suffer a little before he gets what he wants.

Daewhi picks up on Sanha’s annoyance and grins. “Sanha,” Daehwi says, teasing. “Are you bothered? Are you upset you’re not being spread too? But see, you’ve had all the fun tonight, Sanha. It’s Hyunjin’s turn.”

Sanha ignores him, just continues to press inside like he’s been told, reaching his fingers in as deeply as he can insert them just to see what happens.

He’s rewarded with a deep moan from Hyunjin. “Fuck,” Hyunjin pants. “Your fingers are so long, Sanha. Feels so good.”

Daehwi leans down, dragging his lips across Hyunjin’s temple. “I didn’t think you’d want to be fucked again so soon after last night,” Daehwi whispers against the edge of Hyunjin’s ear. He licks a line up it. “I was rough.”

 _Oh God_ , Sanha thinks. _Rough_?

“D-Does it hurt?” he asks, worried.

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No. You’re gentle. Keep going.”

Daehwi laughs, but it’s bitter. The night seems to have gone a completely different direction than he’d been hoping, and it’s clearly wearing on his patience. “If you want a gentle fuck, maybe you should let Sanha fuck you tonight.”

Hyunjin shrugs, his voice teasing. He’s clearly dealt with Daehwi’s mood swings before. “It’s always good to change things up,” he says.

Daehwi whistles. “Did you hear that, Sanha?” he asks. His voice still sounds bitter. “You can fuck Hyunjin tonight if you want.”

“I— Um—” Sanha stutters. He’s not exactly sure how to decline, especially with Daehwi in a mood like this, but God, he doesn’t want to fuck Hyunjin. All he can think about is having something in his ass again, spreading him wide — he needs someone to finish what everyone else started. It’s only making it worse, spreading Hyunjin apart, slowly working him open, because he can’t help but think about the sensations he’s experienced tonight.

Maybe Daehwi is right. Maybe he won’t be able to masturbate without his ass again. Fuck.

Bomin answers for Sanha this time. “No,” Bomin says, his voice firmer than Sanha could have anticipated. He almost sounds… annoyed? “You can do the rest, Daehwi.”

He grips Sanha’s forearm, using that grip to pull Sanha’s hand away from Hyunjin’s ass. Sanha’s fingers are warm and slick with lube, and he stares at them, then at Hyunjin’s asshole, not quite comprehending what’s been happening. He feels sobered, a little. The lack of touch has restored some sanity to his senses, but even though he’s thinking clearly, it doesn’t change how aroused he is. He wants this to end, and he wants it to end with him getting fucked out of his mind.

Fuck.

When he looks at Bomin, he feels scared at how desperately he wants him — like he’s worried he’s going to see Bomin’s usual casual expression reflected back at him.

Instead, he sees an expression he hasn’t seen before — possessiveness.

It only turns Sanha on more. Bomin? Possessive over _him_? Jealous of him being with Hyunjin? It feels good to see his own emotions reflected in Bomin’s face.

Bomin presses Sanha back into the couch, kissing him roughly. Sanha reacts instinctively, one hand going up to grip Bomin’s neck. Bomin shivers — Sanha’s grasped at him with the hand covered in lube, fuck, fuck, that had to feel weird — but still, Bomin doesn’t stop licking at Sanha’s lips. He pauses only to growl in Daehwi’s direction, “Do what you want over there.”

Hyunjin just laughs. “I guess he gets it now.”

Sanha isn’t sure what Bomin gets. Being horny? How desperately Sanha loves him? He doesn’t have the time or presence of mind to care about figuring it out.

Bomin doesn’t bother with any fingers this time. He’s hard, and somehow in the midst of all this he managed to get one of the condoms on. Sanha can feel the texture of the latex as Bomin positions himself at his entrance. 

“They said you don’t mind if it hurts, right?” Bomin asks, sounding hesitant.

But he doesn’t wait for Sanha to answer. He presses in at Sanha’s entrance, pushes the entire head in at once, and Sanha cries a little, so happy to finally be spread the way he’s been wanting.

Bomin stops. His voice sounds nervous as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Sanha nods. “Yes, please, _God_ , please, can someone just fucking finish what they started for fuck’s sake.”

Bomin doesn’t wait to hear more. He fully sheathes himself inside Sanha, and immediately Sanha sees stars. He’s been on the edge so long that just the sensation of being filled again is enough. He comes, a low moan wrung from his lips. He’s so overcome with the aftermath of his orgasm that he barely registers the sensation of Bomin pressing in and out in a rough, fast rhythm, but he hears the moment Bomin finds his own release.

As the two come back to their senses, Sanha hears the slick, loud sounds of Daehwi and Hyunjin across the room. Daehwi is every bit as vocal as Sanha expected, and Hyunjin a bit louder than he’d assumed. Sanha stares at Bomin, who rests his weight on his hands, hovering above Sanha.

He’s staring at him like he hasn’t seen Sanha before. It’s disconcerting.

“We should do that again,” Bomin says at last, a shy smile on his face.

Sanha is so boneless and wrung out that he can’t even muster the strength to feel anxious about what comes next. So he asks exactly what’s on his mind. 

“What, with all four of us?”

Bomin laughs. “I’m not ruling that out, but no, I—” he pauses, looking slightly flustered. “I thought it would be nice to be just the two of us. I missed quite a bit, earlier.”

“Huh?” Sanha says, still wondering what any of this means, but not quite caring about the answer. He’s so relaxed and sore all at once. He doesn’t want to move for another million years.

Bomin clears his throat before speaking again. “It’s just, uh,” he says, pausing. Bomin reaches one hand out to brush the sweat-slick hair from Sanha’s face, moving it so he can stare directly into Sanha’s eyes as he continues. “I’d like to keep some of you to myself, I think.”

Sanha’s lips part subconsciously. Bomin’s smile is shy, and a bit embarrassed. It’s not like Bomin’s big on long-winded diatribes about his emotions, so just this simple confession is a lot from him.

 _Huh_. 

It’s not some meaningful, beautiful confession from a drama, the sort of thing Sanha has fantasized about receiving since he was sixteen, but, actually, it’s nice all the same. 

Sanha ruffles Bomin’s hair and kisses the corner of his mouth. Sanha’s voice is low and sultry and almost unrecognizable when he replies. 

“Well, I want _all_ of you to myself.”


End file.
